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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28814694">White Noise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rorygrade/pseuds/rorygrade'>rorygrade</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety Attacks, Blood God Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Family Dynamics, Hearing Voices, Philza being a dad, Possession, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, supportive philza</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:08:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,481</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28814694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rorygrade/pseuds/rorygrade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Technoblade has always fought against the voices of the Blood God. Philza is there to help.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Technoblade &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>161</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>White Noise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first sign Technoblade had that he might not be normal came unexpectedly. He had been living with Philza for a year at that point, still struggling through learning how to speak. It was frustrating how easily words came to the others around him. Wilbur, the boy that claimed to be his brother despite the fact they looked nothing alike, could hold a conversation as easily as breathing. Techno couldn’t do the same. Words felt thick and odd in his mouth, sticking uncomfortably to his oversized tusks and refusing to come out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t you talk a lot?” Wilbur had asked over dinner, his mouth full of food. Techno hunched over his plate. He couldn’t respond even if he wanted too: tonight was one of those nights where words just refused to work with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, Philza was there to answer in Techno’s place. The older man reached over and gave the piglin a pat on the shoulder. “He needs some time to adjust to our language.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur nodded, still looking a bit confused. “When will he start talking with me more though?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s ‘cause of m’ tusks.” Techno mumbled, rubbing a hoof against his snout. “They get in th’ way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Philza smiled at him encouragingly. “That’s very good, Techno! Once you grow into them a little more, I’m sure it will be much easier.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur seemed satisfied with the answer. The six year old leaned back in his chair, waving his fork wildly and ignorant to the way Philza cringed nervously. “I’ll just need to talk enough for both of us then, right? That way it won’t be all quiet!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s already loud.” Techno responded quietly, rubbing the fur on the back of his neck. The motion was calming. “Causa’ all the voices.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Philza stopped mid-spoonful of soup. He looked over to Techno. “The what now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno didn’t respond. He went back to eating his dinner, oblivious to his adoptive father’s concerned stare. The voices in the back of his head were a constant dull buzz of noise. It was harder to tune them out here in the castle without the roar of the Nether’s fire to drown them out. He wasn’t sure how Phil and Wilbur seemed to ignore them so effortlessly, especially over a quiet dinner like this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno, are you talking about our voices? Are we being too loud?” Phil pressed. Techno shook his head no, not bothering to pause eating his dinner. Across the table Wilbur dramatically sighed as if everyone else here were complete idiots. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dad, he’s talking about the Blue God.” Wilbur said condescendingly, as if that explained a single thing. Techno frowned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Blood God. Not Blue.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil looked back and forth between the two of them, his eyebrow raised. “Is this one of your pranks or should I be concerned? This isn’t something you should be lying about.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not lying!” Wilbur snapped. He kicked Techno under the table. “Tell him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno chose not to. He finished eating and scooted his chair away from the table. It was unpleasant having Phil look at him all concerned. He wasn’t sure how to handle the whole situation, so he settled for hiding in his room for the rest of the evening. Wilbur came in later to sit in the closet with him. The boy chattered non-stop about whatever topic popped into his head, leaning against Techno and not seeming to mind that the piglin never responded. Techno appreciated the noise. It helped drown out the incoherent words of the voices. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t until Techno had finally started talking in earnest that Philza became truly concerned. His father could chalk up the ‘Blood God’ up to a creation from one of Wilbur’s many stories, but apparently it was harder to excuse when Techno had questions. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Phil, what does ‘dismember’ mean?” Techno asked innocently one night. It was about two months after the dinner conversation by this time. Techno had assumed Philza had forgotten about the whole thing, but judging from his response he had been mistaken. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you hear that from the Blood God?“ Phil slowly lowered the story book in his hands. Techno nodded and pulled the blanket up farther around him. Phil’s next words seemed to be chosen carefully. “What were the voices saying about that word?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think they want me to do that to Wilbur, but I dunno what it means.” Techno shrugged. He yawned, pressing his face into the pillow and closing his eyes. Phil didn’t respond and Techno cracked an eye open to look at him. “Do you not know what it means either?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know what it means!” Wilbur chirped up from the bed next to him. He excitedly pushed back his covers and jumped up on the foot of Techno’s bed next to Phil. “It means to tear something apart, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where did you hear--nevermind.” Phil shook his head. “Techno, do the voices tell you things like that a lot?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I guess.” Techno was already bored with the conversation. He wanted to go back to the story but Phil was in no mood to move on. The winged man closed the book and Techno internally groaned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tomorrow you and I are going to have a longer chat about this.” Phil said. He quickly continued talking upon seeing Techno’s panicked face. “You’re not in trouble, I just have a few more questions. How about we spar a bit and we can talk during then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The chance of Phil letting him pick up a sword again was too appealing to ignore. Techno nodded furiously, sitting up in his bed with a determined expression on his face. Phil chuckled and ruffled the pink fur on his head. “Then it’s a plan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I come too?” Wilbur piped up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m afraid not for this one, buddy.” Phil scooped the younger boy up and carried him over to his bed, pulling back the sheets and tucking him in. “We can talk another time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur made a face but didn’t complain further. The second Phil extinguished the lantern and left the room, Wilbur turned over to Techno. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are the voices saying now?” He whispered loudly. Techno focused, trying to pry apart words from the white noise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They want blood and…” Techno scrunched up his snout. “...obliteration?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No clue.” Techno leaned back in his pillows and stared up at the ceiling. The voices drowned out any other noise in the room in a cacophony of shouts and humming. He pressed his pillow up to his ears. It didn’t muffle the voices in his head, but at least it felt like he was doing something. Wilbur seemed to lose interest, wishing Techno a goodnight and promptly falling fast asleep. Techno stayed awake a little longer. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the voices at night. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sparring was the one time Techno didn’t mind the voices. They noticed things faster than he did, letting him dodge out of the way in the nick of time. Philza always won in the end but it didn’t matter. Each time they fought Techno lasted a few minutes longer than the previous match. Techno reasoned it was only a matter of time before he could get the upper edge. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So how long have you heard the Blood God?” Phil finally asked during one of their breaks. Techno picked up his wooden sword and sat down in the courtyard’s grass, wiping the sweat off of its hilt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Since forever, I guess.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And the voices always tell you to hurt others?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not really. Just when I’m not doing anything.” Techno responded. Phil sat down next to him. Even though Techno was only around six, he was already almost up to Phil’s shoulder. With them both sitting down it was like they were the same height. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you ever listen to them?” Phil asked quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Not when they ask me to do those things though.” Techno quickly added. Philza gave him a reassuring smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright, I’m not angry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” Techno felt uncomfortable under Phil’s stare. He hugged the sword closer to him and stood. “Can we go back to sparring?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“After a few more questions.” Phil set his own sword down in the grass next to him, indicating he didn’t plan on moving for a while. Techno slumped back to the ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does hearing the voices make you feel unsafe?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah.” Techno lied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Phil pushed. Techno flicked his ears back in frustration. Phil always seemed to know when he was lying. It made him wish Wilbur was here to cover for him. The more Phil worried, the more questions he would ask, and the less time Techno would have to spar. He angrily shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil looked unconvinced. He frowned but didn’t press it anymore. Techno rubbed his arms, the anxiety starting to puff up his fur. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The piglins have stories about the Blood God, you know.” Phil began. Techno’s ears flicked up with interest. He let go of his arms</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  
  <span>“Really.” Phil nodded. “They say that every generation, it picks a vessel. That vessel is destined to become a great warrior.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I a vessel?” Techno’s eyes widened. He gripped his sword tighter, excitement rising up in his chest. The voices swirled in his head, whispering about battles and victory. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m...not sure, but it wouldn’t surprise me.” Phil looked worriedly over at him. “That doesn’t mean you must become a--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So I’m supposed to fight people?” Techno interrupted, jumping to his feet. He pointed his sword at Phil, grinning widely. “If I’m supposed to become a warrior, I gotta practice a lot, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess so.” Phil chuckled in relief. He pushed himself off the ground, picking up his sword and moving over to the patch of dirt they had designated as Techno’s training grounds. Techno followed closely behind. He stood across from Phil, finally ready to start. Phil raised his sword, pointing it at Techno and giving him a nod. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dad!” Wilbur’s voice interrupted them. Phil immediately lowered his sword as the young boy ran over to them. Wilbur held up his hands. “Look what I made!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno stood awkwardly next to them as Wilbur showed off the drawing in his hands. Phil had slipped his sword back onto his belt, kneeling down and admiring the piece of paper. Frustration started to bubble up in Techno’s chest. The drawing wasn’t even that good, but Phil was completely ignoring their promised sparring match in order to fawn over it. He crossed his arms with a huff and kicked at the dirt. His father didn’t seem to notice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The minutes started to pass with no change. Techno grit his teeth. He tugged on Phil’s sleeve to get his attention, but the older man shrugged him off. “One moment, Techno. Be patient.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno was patient. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>patient--usually. Right now though he had spent an hour at this point talking, listening to others talk, and not doing the one thing he came here to do. He was supposed to be a warrior one day, right? So why was Philza more invested in some drawing than training him? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The voices began to repeat his discontent. They grew like a wave inside his head, swirling around with whispers about how unfair it was that Techno wasn’t allowed to practice. Techno tugged on Phil’s sleeve a little harder and once again got shushed. Wilbur paused, looking over at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to see my drawing too?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno did not want to see the drawing. He wanted to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fight</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The voices started to grow louder. They repeated those words Techno didn’t fully understand, demanding for Wilbur to be ‘eviscerated’, whatever that meant. Techno smacked a hoof against his head trying to quiet them down. Philza frowned and grabbed his arm. “Hey, what’s going on, mate?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally the voices said something Techno could understand. Without thinking he followed their words, adjusting the sword in his hand and swinging down hard. Wilbur yelped but Techno barely noticed. The sound was dull under the layers of voices demanding blood. His head felt like it was full of static and he raised his sword again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Techno!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Phil shouted. Techno blinked. He felt the sword being pulled out of his hooves and he stumbled back. The voices hissed angrily at him to fight back. He clenched his hoof into a fist and swung blindly. Both his arms were shoved downwards to his sides and suddenly he found himself unable to move. He struggled in the grip, snarling and trying to bite the man holding him. His tusks scraped against a leather arm guard. “Techno, I need you to listen to my voice, okay? Just mine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The arms around him made it easier to focus. His head still swum with voices but the noise around him was dying down. He pressed his head into Phil’s robes and hummed loudly, trying to drown out the calls for blood. Phil slowly released Techno’s arms, drawing his own hands up to Techno’s head and petting down his fur. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My head hurts.” Techno mumbled into Phil’s chest. “They won’t shut up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay. You’re safe.” Phil comforted, not letting him go. He kept talking, his words mixing in with the Blood Gods’. “Concentrate on me for now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno did just that. He took deep breaths in time with Phil’s, slowly drowning out the voices. He pulled away, looking around as the red in his vision faded. Wilbur’s drawing was left crumpled on the ground, Wilbur himself nowhere to be seen. Techno paled. His ears pressed flat against the back of his head. “Did I...is Wil okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s fine. You just hit my arm guard, that’s all.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Techno glanced over to his sword lying on the dirt. The rumblings in the back of his head started up again and he quickly looked away. Phil noticed, picking up the sword and tossing it into the nearby bushes. Techno heard the thump as it hit the earth and he felt like crying. It hurt. He wanted to scream. He settled for apologizing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, I know. I’m not angry.” Phil shushed him. Techno sniffed and buried his head into Phil’s shoulder. He tried to speak but his tusks were getting in the way again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I all...allowed…” Techno gave up trying to stutter the words out. Phil parsed his meaning anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll spar when you’re feeling a bit better.” Phil reassured him. “Once we can figure out how to get those voices to calm down, you’ll have a sword back in your hands in no time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words made him feel a bit better. Techno rubbed at his eyes and nodded. Phil smiled gently. “You’ll be able to handle all this soon. It just takes a little time and practice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The duel against Dream had been the most stressful hour of Technoblade’s life. Standing in the middle of the arena, his honor and reputation on the line, with the eyes of an entire crowd on him hadn’t helped calm his nerves. He made stupid mistakes that not even a beginner would make, missing his crossbow shots and even getting his axe stolen at one point. As his anxiety grew and his lead started to slip, he found himself listening to the voices. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Over the years Techno had learned to control the demands of the Blood God. He viewed the requests for blood and murder as nuisances rather than the terrifying, uncontrollable whirlwind of his youth. He usually had a good control over the impulses. In the face of falling to his rival in front of everyone he knew, that control was now slipping. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno didn’t remember winning the duel. Everything from winning the final fight to the awards ceremony was a blur. He couldn’t hear the cheers over the voices screaming at him to keep going. They hissed at him to grab his axe and climb up those stairs into the crowd. He tried to push them down, but all it did was infuriate them. The second he was able to leave, he was sprinting through the colosseum’s tunnels, getting as far away from the crowd as he could. Dream stared at him curiously as he ran, but Techno didn’t trust himself to stop and explain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up.” Techno mumbled to himself once he could no longer see the crowd around him. He slid down the wall, sitting in the dimly lit stone tunnel and forcing himself to breathe. His vision was slipping in and out of red. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey mate, I was wondering where you had gone!” Philza’s voice echoed through the tunnels. Techno looked up. The winged man held a lantern but was otherwise unarmed. The Blood God noted he would be an easy kill. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Phil, you need to go.” Techno croaked out, crossing his arms tight and refusing to let himself move. Phil stopped, the smile sliding off his face. Techno grit his teeth and bit down hard on his lip. The blood he drew sated the voices, if only temporarily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it the Blood God?” Phil asked, carefully stepping forwards. Techno gave him a sharp nod. Phil reached his side, sitting down next to him and setting the lantern on the stone floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want to hurt you.” Techno tried to explain. Blood from his bite mark trickled down his chin and the voices went wild at the sensation. They rose to an incomprehensible scream inside his head, demanding he tear Philza apart and paint the grey walls crimson. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not going to hurt me.” Philza said confidently as if Techno wasn’t on the verge of doing just that. He picked up Techno’s arm and held onto his wrist. The pressure distracted him long enough to gulp down a few breaths of air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t get them to stop, they won’t listen to me--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t pay attention to them. Listen to me instead, okay?” Phil rubbed the fur on his arm until it stopped standing on end. He continued to speak, keeping his tone light. “You aren’t in any danger right now. You won the duel, you’re safe, and I’m right here with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno closed his eyes and rested his head on his knees. Phil kept talking next to him. Techno couldn’t make out the words at this point, but the distraction was nice. Despite how loud the voices were, they faded into white noise. Eventually they retreated to a harmless hum in the back of his skull. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you feeling any better?” Phil asked, rubbing his back. Techno sat up. He grimaced as the beginnings of a headache hit him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Head hurts, though.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can stay down here for a bit until it passes. It’s a little less noisy than upstairs.” Phil reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask of water. He pushed it into Techno’s hooves. “Drink. It’ll help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno gulped it down. He sighed and leaned his head against the wall. “I thought I was over this crap. I’m not some little kid anymore, I should be able to control it by now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do control it, it’s just that you got overwhelmed in the moment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I appreciate that, Phil, but this is serious. If I lost control back there, I could have really hurt someone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you didn’t. The second you realized what was happening, you got away and kept everyone safe.” Phil replied. Techno grimaced and took another swig of water. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And if I didn’t manage to do that?” Techno asked. “You said back when I was younger that once I got the voices to calm down, I could use a sword again. I obviously haven’t gotten them under control yet, so where does that leave me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It leaves you with the rest of us mortals.” Phil wrapped his wing around Techno. “No one is expecting you to be perfect. You’re controlling it so much better than you used to and you still have </span>
  <em>
    <span>time</span>
  </em>
  <span>. All I’m asking for you is to keep trying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno didn’t respond. He thought over the words. Phil nudged him. “Do you think you can do that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I think I can.” Techno finally responded. Far above them, a cheer went up from the crowd. Techno flicked his eyes up to stare at the ceiling. The voices started to rise and he automatically shushed them, driving them back to their regular humming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” Phil leaned his head back against the wall next to Techno. The two of them sat there quietly, just listening to the muffled roar of the crowd. The noise reminded him of the voices: just incomprehensible shouting in the distance. After a moment of thought, Techno decided to believe Phil’s words. Maybe he would never truly control it, but the least he could do in the meantime was keep trying. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Is this 3479 words of me mildly projecting onto characters? Perhaps lol</p></blockquote></div></div>
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